


Starstruck

by EryinForde



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bodyguard AU, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Minor Violence, Multi, Post-Pacifist Route, Racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5944378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EryinForde/pseuds/EryinForde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There have been few times in your life when you've felt starstruck. Being a security guard for several high end gatherings means you've seen plenty of famous faces before. But this time? Mettaton, especially in his EX form, was new, fresh, exciting, elusive...and staring right at you.<br/>~~~<br/>After extensive research into human celebrity culture, Mettaton realizes he needs a personal bodyguard to follow him around. Who better to hire than you?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lightweight

The autumn wind bustles past, and you try to shrug off the chill it gives you.

You've been standing outside for almost two hours. But as soon as it turns 11pm, your shift begins indoors.

"Excuse us, hi," a tightly clad woman shuffles up to you, her eyes fixed at the door you're blocking.

"What's your name?" you pull up the guest list.

"Uh, um, it's Rachel?"

"Rachel who?" there's not even a Rachel on the list.

Her stare is on you now, cold and spiteful. "Rachel... Jordan."

"Sorry, lady, but you're not invited." You stifle a yawn.

"This is ridiculous!" She stomps her foot.

"It sure is, ma'am. Now please, make way for our real guests."

The woman struts away down the street, muttering curses. You check your watch, 22:53.

Another woman approaches soon after, accompanied by two others. Recognising her yellow fur, you pull up the guest list right away.

"Evening. Uhm, Arylide? And guests," she gestured her claw to the other monsters.

You double check her name on the clipboard. "Welcome, everyone," you stand aside with a smile. The three wander inside, and it's about time you went in too. Your watch reads 22:59 - perfect.

Glancing around, you pull open the door and step inside, ready to stand guard by the door for another few hours.

\---

One hour passed and there were only minor incidents. A man blacked out after challenging a monster to do shots. A woman slipped and spilled her drink on the tiles, causing a couple others to slip over too.

Music was loud and chatter was abundant, and disco fog filled the room. The atmosphere of these parties was usually pretty crazy, but something about the calmness tonight was unusual. You sighed. Hopefully it wasn't because of the monsters.

Ever since the robot monster Mettaton appeared, he'd started making it big. Quickly he became a celebrity who the humans adored. And with that, people generally began accepting monsters into our culture. Inviting them to parties, interviewing on TV shows, some were even writers for famous human newspapers. But not everyone was on board with this.

You'd worked at a few parties in the last year, in which fights had broken out between humans and monsters. There was always a human or two who believed in their own superiority, and very little disturbance would set off their short fuses.

Please don't let tonight be one of those nights, you thought. 

\---

People begin to leave at around 3am. Plenty of them are still hanging around, but you want them all gone so the tension dissipates. And so you can go home, too.

You would really love a warm shower right now. Or a bath, with some fruity candles and bubbles. And afterwards, you could hop into your soft cozy bed…

Someone yelling distracts you from your reverie. Your eyes scan the room (which is still too busy for your liking) and you spot the man from earlier, who passed out. He looks as though he's going to kick off.

Rolling your eyes, you go to investigate.

"Oi! You, security! This bloody monster thinks it can take the mick!"

"Hey, calm it, what's going on?" you ask. They're both drunk, but the monster seems more frightened than angry.

"Bloody shark freak called me 'lightweight!'"

"Do you think this is something to be fighting about, mate? Really?" You pull at the man's arm, attempting to stop his aggressive advances.

"Don't touch me!! I'm gonna knock that thing's lights out!"

"Hey! Stop! You can't treat monsters like that! You can't treat anyone like that!" You grab him tighter.

He tried to wrestle out of your grip. "Why not? It's come into MY world out of its dirty hole, it needs to obey MY rules!"

You don't hesitate to punch the guy in the face, onto the floor. A part of you feels instant regret. A part of you doesn't.

The man seems stunned. Everyone is silent for a moment.

"OH my GOD?! Do you know who I am?!"

"Bit of a bigot, really, aren't you?"

He huffs and yanks his phone out of his pocket, dialling a number. Oh, christ.

"I've been assaulted at your party!" he shouts down the line, over the music, "It was your security guard! They were defending a monster, of all things! Good! Goodbye!"

You stare down at him as he scrambles to his feet.

He shoves his finger into you. "You're fired now! And you," he turns to the monster, "if I ever see you again I will make your life a living hell."

With that, he stormed out of the door followed by a small entourage of alarmed women.

Rubbing your head, you turn to the scaly monster who'd been on the receiving end of it all. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah. I think I'm gonna go home. But not yet. I'll give it a little time." Poor guy looks as though he's going to fall over.

"Take a seat, man. So sorry about that guy. I don't care who he is, he needed a good hit."

"Y-yeah, thanks."

Fresh air would be a good idea right now. You take out your phone and make your way to the back exit.  
Random guests are standing around out the back, and the air is thick with cigarette smoke. Looking down at your phone, you see a text from your boss. Crap. You dial him anyway.

"Do you have any idea who that was?" he snaps down the line immediately. "It doesn't matter what he did or who he insulted, he's going to give my company awful rep for this!"

"Please, listen, he really deserv-"

"I don't want to hear it. I can find bouncers wherever. You're fired, got it?"

"Wait-" He hung up.

Crap.

That was all so fast. You'd just lost your job, in about 2 minutes flat.

Well, screw him! You don't work for him anymore, you're tired, and in dire need of all-inclusive drinks.

Before you could turn to pay the bar a visit, a little white bunny monster taps your shoulder. "Hey, what you did back there? Amazing. Seriously, it's refreshing to see someone like you on our side." She gave a you a beaming, inebriated smile.

"Just doing my job. Even though I just lost it," you sigh.

She gasps in an exaggerated way. "That's awful! I'm sorry, baby."

You can't help but chuckle. "Thanks."

Back inside, you sit at the bar and loosen your uniform. "A glass of your most expensive drink, please," you tell the bartender, undoing your tie.

She returns with some kind of wine, and a stunned expression on her face, staring behind you.

"Huh? Wha..." you spin around on your chair, and come face to face with a metal smile.

"Hello, darling."

"M-Mettaton? Mettaton!"

There have been few times in your life when you've felt starstruck. Being a guard for several high end gatherings means you've seen plenty of famous faces before. But this time? Mettaton, especially in his EX form, was new, fresh, exciting, elusive...and staring right at you.

He laughed in his metallic voice. "I understand, dear, take your time."

How could you not know Mettaton was attending?! Then again, he wasn't someone who you'd turn away. But more importantly, where were your words?

"G-good evening, Mettaton! Can I do anything for you?" Stop stuttering, you'll make a fool of yourself!

"Indeed you can, but weren't you recently let go?" He raises an eyebrow in question and flicks his hair dramatically.

"Y-yes, I was. You probably saw what happened, right?" How did he know that?

"I did, darling. Which is why," he took the seat beside you and leaned in, "I could ask you a favour."

"What is it?" This was all very fast. Too fast for you at this hour of the day.

"I'm looking for someone in security to be my," he swished his hair again, "personal bodyguard."

Oh my god, new work already? What a rollercoaster of an evening!

"Wow, how generous, um, would you like a... a resume? Or..."

He tuts. "None needed, dear. You've got experience, looks, and the right kind of attitude."

Did he just compliment your looks? You feel dizzy.

"I was watching what you did earlier, and couldn't help but want to hire you! So dashing, and brave! Not to mention compassion!" He posed vigorously with each compliment.

“W-well,” you stutter, a tad flustered, “sign me up!”

Mettaton clapped with delight. 

“Excellent!”


	2. MTT, Winky-face

“What’s your name then, darling? Or would you like for me to keep calling you ‘darling’?” he winked.

“Uh, I’m ____.”

“Gorgeous name for a gorgeous face,” he winked again, flashing you a dazzling smile. You have a feeling you’re going to have to get used to this.

Laughing somewhat nervously, you thank him and take a sip at your wine. Tastes weird. 

“Excuse me!” Mettaton calls for the bartender, “I’ll have whatever they’re having!”

“I will be heading home soon, so…” 

Oh no, he looks disappointed. Duh, you just let your new boss down! Way to go!

“Of course, dear. You have been working all night, after all.” He smiles encouragingly. “Here, give me your phone.”

You pass it over slowly, sceptical- wait, of course, he’s putting in his number. You realize this _after_ giving him a suspicious look.

He cheerfully taps in his number, hopefully unaware of how strange you’re acting. Or maybe you just feel strange. You’ve had a weird night.

Handing back your phone, Mettaton smiles and takes a drink. “I should probably get going too. There’s a lot of people who want to meet me, you see.”

Immediately you feel bad for taking up his time, and it must be apparent on your face.

“Oh, no, dear! It was wonderful to have met you, ‘tis only a shame we couldn’t spend longer!” He stands abruptly. You do too, feeling frazzled. 

“Y-yes! We should be seeing more of each other in the future..?” you tentatively ask, ensuring his job offer wasn’t some joke.

“Indeed, darling.” He offers you a hand.

Instead of shaking it when you return the gesture, he brings your hand to his lips and kisses lightly, winking. Somehow, you’re not entirely surprised by this - it seems like something he would do often. 

With a hair flick and a little wave, he scoops up his drink and wanders off into the room, “Text me, ____!”

You quickly finish your own drink and head out. As you walk to your car, you check your phone. Mettaton’s added his number under ‘MTT ;)’, and texted himself with your name.

This seemed pretty naive of him, giving some random person his number. You could easily sell it to paparazzi or tabloids. But a part of you always assumed he'd be naive, as a monster in the brutal human public eye. You didn't know how monsters were with celebrities, but he seemed almost too genuine to be like a human one. 

Or maybe you were just being cynical.

You hop in your car and head back to your apartment. It hit you that you didn’t technically have a job yet, therefore no way to pay rent. Hopefully Mettaton would give decent pay - he’s got to be pretty damn rich. 

He seemed seriously interested in you too. Well, interested in hiring you anyway. That was a nice change from being treated like you were disposable. But… what if he’s the same, or even worse? What if he gives you tough hours, or tougher work?

No, you’ve been a personal bodyguard before, if only for a short time. Sure, it was only a couple occasions for your old boss, and perhaps a few more for some paranoid rich people. The only thing you can remember from it was following them around for a few hours, sitting around in a car, and scowling menacingly: three of your most refined skills. 

Despite that, Mettaton was something of a sensation these days. You might be faced with boisterous media journalists who’ll do anything for a picture or a quote. Or crazed and zealous fans who want nothing more than to touch his face. 

You arrive at your building and head up. It’s almost always so dark and quiet when you go to and from work. You check the time, 4am. Time for some sleep, you reckon.

What a night it’s been.

\---

It’s around midday when you awaken. Immediately you check your phone, as is routine.

2 texts, 3 emails, 1 Skype notification.

The Skype message is from your group chat. You and a bunch of your gaming friends decided to make it once. Someone’s asking if anyone’s up for playing. Not right now, thank you very much.

The emails are ads and promos from sites you don’t remember signing up to. One is from Facebook. Do you know this person? No. Stop emailing me. 

The texts… Mettaton, of course. You just remembered him offhand asking you to text him. Whoops. 

**MTT ;)** \- 10:08> _hello darling!!!!! remember me? ;) ;)_  
 **MTT ;)** \- 10:09 > _lets meet up and discuss arrangements…..how about this evening??_

This evening? How soon. The less time you spend out of work, the better, you suppose. 

**You** \- 12:19 > _Sure. What time + place?_

Getting up and out of bed, you pull open the curtains and survey the view. The weather is dull and grey, and the roads are busy.

A tremor of excitement runs through you. You were going to be working with Mettaton! The Mettaton. The multi-talented and popular robot monster superstar Mettaton… 

You decide to do some googling. 

In your PJ’s, you hop onto your computer and switch it on. As it boots up, your phone vibrates. 

**MTT ;)** \- 12:21 > _someplace niiice? i’ll treat us ;D_

Sweet, job perks before you got the job.

**MTT ;)** \- 12:21 > _meet me at mtt dine-in cuisine, 7pm xx_

He's got a restaurant? Of course he does, he's Mettaton. You haven't seen it around town before, and you're something of an expert when it comes to local nightlife. 

Once your computer is running, you google 'mtt dine-in cuisine'. There's two of them, apparently. One inside Mount Ebott, and one in the nearby town - the one that Mount Ebott shadows.

And wow, it's in the ritziest area ever. It's a wonder you've never been there before. Oh, it's only a few months old. Mettaton’s restaurant, as well as the others in the complex, are 5 star and very fancy.

Thank god he's treating you.

What are you going to wear? What are you going to discuss? What if you can't find the damned place? 

Your head fills with empty worries as you stare at the sparkling photos on the screen. It's been a long time since you felt so... unstable. Not entirely in a bad way, more like you're throwing caution into the wind. Three years of day-in, day-out routine abruptly ended in a single night. And in the very same day, one of the biggest rising stars in the country offers to take you out to his restaurant and discuss your future.

Maybe some new excitement in your life will do you some good.

You clear the search bar, and enter in "mettaton" instead. Immediately, images of his old, calculator-esque form show up. Only recently had his new body, the EX form, been optimised for daily use. Hm, interesting. 

A list of his shows comes up too, both from the underground and overground. Cooking, singing, dancing, game shows... he even used to host the news. These days, he was popular for his glamorous TV personality, and increasingly so for his shiny new looks.

Considering you were going to be spending time with him soon, you start feeling like you're prying. It would be pretty awkward if you showed up knowing the details of his life. 

You close the tab and get up to change. A fleeting sensation of butterflies runs through you as you remember to text Mettaton back.

**You** \- 12:28  > _Will do._

Maybe you should ask him about formality. God, you hate the intricacies of posh restaurants, like how many forks there are. That's why your stoicism and uniform has served you so well this far.

**You** \- 12:28  > _Was just wondering... Is there a dress code? :)_

There, not too blunt and not too ambiguous. Although, that smiley face might've been a step too far. Oh god, it was, wasn't it? You can't undo it now. You must live with your regrets and face the--

**MTT ;)** \- 12:29  > _dont worry about it gorgeous,, its all reserved out for me anyways ;D_

Oh, good. Now you only have to worry about being conversational and interesting for an indefinite amount of time. 

Something tells you this is going to be a weird night.

**Author's Note:**

> ???????idk??  
>  if i'm gonna write this but......
> 
> if i do, it'll be slow and in big chunks  
> bc i'm so slooow at writing.
> 
> sorry about my writing style, btw


End file.
